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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29686851">The Seal and the Frog</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexSmithxox/pseuds/AlexSmithxox'>AlexSmithxox</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Arthurian Nights [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dungeons &amp; Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons &amp; Dragons - All Media Types, Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:46:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,210</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29686851</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexSmithxox/pseuds/AlexSmithxox</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After months of travel, Ronan and Frög find their friendship may have become much more.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ronan Mann/Frög Oakenshield</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Arthurian Nights [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1974601</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Seal and the Frog</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>As of the last session, it is canon that Ronan and Frög (my friend's character) are in a relationship! It was a spur-of-the-moment decision and mostly because of an NPC that they both like.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Seal and the Frog</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>   Over half a year had passed by for the party of five and their companions. Over a year of quests, battles, and camaraderie. </p><p>   The party was in between quests, preparing to camp out in a small forest clearing about nine leagues from the fortress. Luckily the weather seemed to hold out despite the dense clouds that hung low in the sky, with the ground wet they would have to go another night without warm food in their stomachs or a fire to chase away the winter chill.</p><p>   “I’ll start preparing our meals while Anubis you check the area for anything suspicious and Leonard you set up camp,” Talula’s commanding tone ordered from the edge of the clearing. “Ronan! Frög! If it’s all clear go and fetch us some firewood, I refuse to spend another night cold.” Three days without a proper bath or food left her tetchy to a point where none of the men wanted to be the one to set her off by questioning her. </p><p>   Setting down the weight that he called his pack, Ronan stretched his arms and twisted his body to either side to pop the joints that had made the last five hours of walking uncomfortable. Talula could be bossy on the best days and an absolute tyrant on the worst, always making them continue without reprieve or the coming of nightfall. On the occasion that she did allow a short rest during traveling, she would tap her foot impatiently until they had enough of her judgmental huffing and stood to continue. The woman hated sleeping in the woods, said it was better for all of them if they just spent the time getting closer to their destination and closer to her beauty sleep. </p><p>   Once his muscles felt like they would no longer rebel against him should he take a step, Ronan turned to the party’s resident gnome with a grin. “Frög my strong-willed friend, let us be on our way before fair Talula decides we are better suited to become the meal rather than warm it!” His boisterous voice stirred a few birds nesting above. He tended to address his fellow party members, or even people he was acquainted with, by saying their name along with some underlying quality. Whether he did it out of humor or to make the other feel pleased, no one knew. </p><p>   The gnome rolled his eyes before grumbling about “devil women” and “overzealous gingers.” Grabbing his small hand ax and fixing it to his side, he stood. “Don’t know why she’d want to cook you,” he eyed up the much taller man, “ya got too much muscle to make for anything tasty.” Ronan threw him a dazzling smile as they began to leave the clearing. </p><p>   The first few minutes searching the surrounding area for firewood was spent in relative silence. There were a few grunts as Frög swung down his ax to split fallen branches into pieces small enough for him to carry. After gathering a small number of stray twigs, Ronan began to hum. It was a tune Frög and the rest of the party were very accustomed to hearing when the time was ambling and the selkie was relaxed. It was very repetitive at parts before settling out in the smooth tenor of Ronan’s voice. It was comforting to listen too, so much so that on one occasion Ronan’s humming managed to convince Merlin to set aside one of his archaic tomes and unwind. Perhaps his virtuosity could be on account of his species and likeness to sirens. Or it was another skill the man had hidden up his sleeve. </p><p>   Just as Frög began to let his guard down and go through the motions of selecting wood as he listened to his friend’s humming, it came to a halt. With questioning eyes he turned to Ronan to see what made him stop the tune, only to be met with the grinning man leaning against a nearby major oak tree. “Too much muscle to make a fine meal, you say? I did not know you found me so strapping.” The man shoved off the tree to step closer, “could it be that is not the only thing you find me to be?” </p><p>   Frög stood still as the man that was double his height approached slowly, almost as if stalking his prey.</p><p>   “Maybe you find me well-built,”</p><p>   Another step was taken towards the frozen gnome. </p><p>   “Captivating,”</p><p>   Frög finally understood the cautionary tales men and women would tell about selkies. The man before was truly beguiling and by his grin, he knew it. </p><p>   “Alluring.”</p><p>   By the last word, the man was now less than a foot away and bent at a near 45-degree angle. Being shorter than the rest of the party had its advantages but not when the one and only philanderer of the group leans down low enough that his eyes are level with Frög’s own, invading every inch of his personal space.</p><p>   “So, my small-statured comrade, since when did our relationship become more than friendship? When did your thoughts begin to stray and your heart begin to desire? Is this development recent, or perhaps you have always wished me to stand by your side as more than a shield brother? Tell me Frög, do you long to kiss me?” His lips curled into a smirk, not malicious but akin to the dragon who found a gold coin. </p><p>   Frög floundered for a moment, trying to say something that wouldn’t make him sound like an idiot or an ass. With each moment that Frög couldn’t find the right words, Ronan’s smirk grew. Finally, he backed away a few inches and gave the man a moment to breathe but it did little to lift the heavy atmosphere. </p><p>   After a few minutes of silence and Frög’s heavy breathing, Ronan grabbed the other’s left hand and brought it to his lips. With a wink and a soft mutter of “later,” he picked up an armful of wood and began the short trip back to the campsite. Shaking himself, Frög rushed to grab the short pieces he had gathered before the intimate moment and sped off to walk beside the other. </p><p>   “My lady Talula, we have brought you your wood so we might not starve on this night!” Ronan’s voice once again startled the dozing wildlife as well as the three others who had stayed in the clearing. Talula shot him a small glare but it soon disappeared when the fire was made under the spit and the food on its way. “What took you two so long, we only need enough for tonight and a few branches for the morning?” While the glare was gone, it was instead a look of scrutiny. </p><p>   Frög’s cheeks flared a red that out-matched Ronan’s hair when Talula’s gaze fell on him. Thankfully, he was saved from the woman’s prying when the stew on the spit began to bubble and Anubis began pestering her about not putting so many vegetables inside the mix. With the woman’s attention away from him, Frög subtly looked to the man who sat in his bedroll and began sharpening his dagger. Ronan’s eyes met his and he smirked. </p><p>   Gods, he was in love with a coy bastard. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>We love a tall ginger and his short insecure boyfriend.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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